This is What Nightmares Are Made Of
by Simply Not
Summary: When your nightmares follow you to reality, you can't help but hope that someone puts you back to sleep. Dick-centric. Slight Wally/Dick. But only if you squint. Maybe not. Whatever. Two F-Bombs but I feel that T was enough.


Horrible plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone and I'm not happy with it after about 1000 words in, but I couldn't make it anything I liked. I rewrote it like five times. It just wouldn't come together. I blame my lack of being able to write horror or fight scenes. And dialogue for that matter. I hate writing dialogue thus why I hate the ending.

Warnings: two f-bombs. But I think a rated T will be just fine

* * *

**This Is What Nights Are Made Of**

_"Fucking Nightmares."_

_\- Kendare Blake, Anna Dressed in Blood_

* * *

He'll think about it later - the stupidity to put them in a cave that has been discovered and infiltrated before. The absurdity that Batman - _BATMAN_ \- agreed and probably was the one behind putting their secret team of adolescents here. He couldn't really believe that the Justice League didn't think that some insane criminal wouldn't try again once they caught sight of the young heroes (_sidekick sidekick sidekick_) team. Why had no one question this? "_Oh, hey, maybe we should be slightly worried someone might try to ambush them_" wasn't that hard to say.

But, he'll think about that later.

Because right now he's dreaming - dreaming of _flying_. Flying through the air on his trapeze, cartwheeling on a tightrope, being one of the few people to actually be able to land a quadruple flip. Dick hasn't had this dream for a while, probably a few months. He can't actually remember the last time he's had a dream like this. He's fifteen now and he has too much on his mind to mourn. He'd rather spend time honoring their lives and maybe paying a little too much attention to a certain red haired speedster.

So Dick enjoys the dream for all it's worth. Enjoys his fathers warm hands as they ruffle his hair and catch him as he's flying from trapeze to trapeze. As he teaches him how to ride Elinor the elephant, the smell of powder filling his senses because his father had been practicing that morning.

He delights in his mothers beautiful smile as it crinkles her eyes, as she pushes her hair away from her face when the caravan gets a little too hot, as she jokes around with his dad, lightly resting her hands on his arm and chest, her blue (_so blue blue blue like my own blue and warm_) eyes radiating _mine_. And then her gaze is on him and _my little Robin_.

Mr Haly is setting up underneath his Flying Grayson's, talking to Harry the clown and Jacques is feeding Gunther and Gurbel, the resident tigers.

He laughs (_because **my little Robin** doesn't cackle_) and swings, happy when his cousin catches his ankle, and sings him over to his aunt - and there are his parents, ready to spot him as he's supposed to land on the ledge.

But then his dream changes. And he knows something's wrong because this dream doesn't change. It runs its course, letting him hope and want and beg to stay just a second longer only to take it away when he woke. Wake him up to Bruce (_he's thankful he promises he is_) and Alfred (_he's even more grateful_) and there is Gotham and school and his teammates who are his best friends and _he's thankful_.

But this is his dream - his desire - his want - his need - his one selfish wish.

And it's changed.

It _doesn't change_.

He takes in a shuddering breath as he watches the scene shift. Suddenly he's not waiting to jump into his parents arms, nor is he even flying anymore. Instead he watches the rest of his family perform a routine they've done a thousand times. He's supposed to jump in in about five minutes. It'll be his first time in this sequence. He remembered just a while ago his older cousin John patting him on the head, "_don't worry squirt, you'll get a chance sooner than you think_" and he can't help but let a joyous laugh escape him, because this is his chance.

But suddenly the ropes snap, and it's like all his other dreams and they're falling falling falling, dying dying dying and he's watching watching watching. His mothers eyes catch his, and the warmth that they seemed to always carry suddenly goes dark, cold, scary and he can't help but know that they're not coming back from this. There won't be The Flying Grayson's anymore. Just Grayson. Because there won't be a mom or a dad or an aunt or an uncle or a cousin John. He'll be forced into a correctional facility for a few weeks. They'll take him away from the only family he's ever known besides the obvious. There won't be any Gunther and Gurbel or Harry or Jacques or even Joey the security guard. He'll be forced to speak English and keep his feet on the ground and -

And he won't be flying anymore.

Not until Batman lets him out of the cave.

He knows all of this somewhere in the back of his mind.

But right now he can only watch as they (_mama tata unchiul matusa vār John_) all fall to their deaths and as he sees their bodies bounce off the cold, unforgiving ground he gasps awake, taking in as much air as he can.

He'll think about it later.

Gasping in, feeling his chest constrict, grinding his teeth, he gathers his surroundings in three seconds flats. His mind is whirring, working at a speed that he should know means something is off.

He'll think about it later.

He's in the cave. In his room. Curled in his blankets. Staring at a blank wall. He stayed because their mission had been a long one that had lasted two days and he was tired. So he stayed the night. But something was off. He knows it is. Even though there are no alarms and he knows that if there was something that could make him this paranoid that someone else should be up, that he should be able to hear something and he can't - there is something wrong.

He'll think about it _LATER_.

As he makes his way out of his rumpled sheets, he doesn't take notice of the strange smell in his room, how the air tastes too thick, how he's wobbling on his feet and he's sweating buckets. Instead he focuses on this sound that he knows is there but he can't hear. It's not coming from his bathroom, or his closet, or under the bed, or in the vent, or in that easy access crawl space that he made two years ago. It's not in his room.

So it must be out of it.

If he was capable of taking a minute, he would have noticed that, while he did have his utility belt on like always when he slept somewhere that wasn't the manor, he didn't put on shoes or slip pants over his boxers. His white undershirt wasn't the best for sneaking around, seeming to make him glow. He had somehow remembered to slip on his glasses though.

Slipping out of his room, the first thing he told himself to do was get off the ground. He wasn't safe on the ground. He needed to have his feet in the air. So he scales the walls till he climbs over the large metal beams that encase the wiring for the heat and electricity and cooling system.

He was wired enough on paranoia to snort. Like this freezing cave needed a cooling system. Turn off the constant heat and everyone but M'gann would probably get hypothermia. He actually cackled.

And suddenly the sound that he knows is there but can't hear is overshadowed by an actual sound. It's a door sliding open somewhere. Not in this hallway. It's the one two corners away and it sounds like Kaldur's. He almost sighs with relief. It's not just him.

He crawls forward as easily as it is for anyone to walk and breath and works his way to meet up with the leader of his team, because they need to figure out who's in the cave. But once he gets to the first turn, it's not Kaldur that he sees. And it's definitely not anyone he knows.

It starts as a shadow, moving in ways that Dick has never seen anything move like, so a shadow is the closest description he can put to it. It seems to stretch across the walls before it confines itself to a corner, creating a figure thats shape is still off but is now closer to something he can mentally grasp. The figure slides along the wall and Dick can see a small blue glow now emitting from it. It's actually so bright he wonders how he missed it. But that must be because of its initial shape.

Either way, the thing was creeping even further and Dick thinks that he might be looking up at him. But he can't tell where it's eyes are let alone know if it even has eyes. Then it's speaking -

"**_My little Robin... Rob... Robin... Richard... Dick..._**"

Dick is suddenly staring down into the face of his aunt which then shifts to his father and morphs to his uncle. His breathing is getting heavier and his sweating limbs are slipping on the metal and he can't keep his hold and -

And he lands on the ground in a shaking crouch as his 'uncle Richard's' face is slipping into what he looked like fallen. His neck is twisted painfully, obviously broken, there's blood splattered across his face and his arms are almost spread eagle, as if asking his nephew for a hug. His legs didn't look as if they could even support his weight, his right ankle bent outwards, dragging along a stream of blood while his left leg tried in vain to drag him forward.

"Robin," his 'uncle' spoke again. "What are you doing out here? Are you not aware of the time? Have you heard something? And what is with your state of undress?" His 'uncle's' voice was off. For one, he was speaking English, which wasn't his chosen language. And he spoke too formal. But Dick couldn't get past his face, his body, his limp. And when 'Richard' went to grab him, instinct took over again, saying that however his uncle was here was the reason he was on alert, and he flipped the body of his dead uncle Richard over him and onto the ground. He was heavier than he remembered but he paid it no mind, because 'Richard' was getting up again and speaking.

"Robin, what are you -?"

Robin went forward, elbow first and slammed right into the already broken nose and watched as 'Richard' stayed down with one final painful grunt. He gave it a few minutes till the body morphed back into that black figure with a blue glow.

He had to keep moving, because suddenly there was another sound, another door sliding open. He ran towards it and almost ran into his 'father'.

His 'father' grunted but made no move to touch him.

"Robin, what was that noise?" And suddenly his fathers perfect face twisted into a dead look. He became slack-jawed, his eyes losing their bright color. His hair lost its pristine form, falling to cover over his right eye. His shoulder was popped out and his forearm was bleeding heavily from his radius sticking out. His hips were not aligned in a very obvious way, and his left knee twisted inwards, making his lower leg stick out and even in death his 'father' had impeccable balance.

Even as he went to reach for his son, he didn't even seem to need to switch his weight around. Dick immediately did a backhand spring, pulling at his utility belt that was around his torso. And just like with his 'uncle' instinct took over and he knew that there was something in the third compartment. His 'father' was stumbling forward, eyes widening before whatever Dick pulled out finally made his 'father' crumble to the ground. Looking into his palm, Dick saw nothing but a simple rock and laid it on his 'father's' chest, the twisted face of the older man now getting rid of that dead, blank look to hold a painful grimace.

"_Tata, îmi pare rāu_," he heard himself say before heading further down the hall. He had to get out of the cave. Whatever had infiltrated it, they knew how to shape-shift. He had to find someone, anyone that could possibly help.

Wally.

Wally could help.

As he's about to slide down towards the hallway that his room is at, there's suddenly a large black shadow, not unlike the first one he saw, except this one was bigger, closer, darker (_ohgodohgodohgod_) and it's tentacle-like limbs seemed to encompass him and -

"Robin?"

_Oh god no_.

"Is that you, _**my little**_ Robin?"

_Nonononono_.

His 'mother' was looking at him now, blue eyes crinkling in that way that showed her age but made her look so much younger. Made her look like she's seen the sun for the first time in years. Like she was being given the grace of god himself and nothing could bring her down.

"**_Dick_**?"

His 'mothers' beautiful face finally morphed into what he had been dreading. Her silky black hair became messy, covering her face, only half her bloodied lip showing. Her left temporal was caked in blood, smashed in. He didn't make it past that.

"_Nu_!" He shouted, English escaping him. He swung wildly, not able to handle the dead look in her eyes. His 'mother' dodged the first swing but caught his leg in her gut. But Dick wasn't done. He grabbed her black hair and smashed it into the wall before he felt himself get pulled sideways.

"Robin, what are you doing?!"

He didn't answer. Instead he leapt forwards again and his knee smashed into his mothers already bloodied face and he heard a crunch before he was pulled back again.

"Dude, Rob!"

He saw red and his heart skipped a beat (_wallywallywally_) before he realized that it was the uniform of his cousin. His mangled, horribly twisted, favorite and only cousin. Dick must have been shaking because 'John' was unclear in his vision.

"Dude!" His 'cousin' said again, and this time Dick did shake but only because 'John' was the cause of it. "What are you doing?"

Dick didn't answer and instead threw a punch along with a birdarang but both were dodged. He found himself on his back, staring up into the face of his 'cousin'.

"Dick, what the hell man? What are you doing?" He received another shake.

"_Vār John. Vā rog. Scuze. Scuze._"

"Var, scoozy... What the hell are you...?"

"_John, vā rog_," Dick all but whimpered.

"John? John... Dick, what are you seeing? Who am I?" Wally whispered.

But all Dick said was "_vā rog_" over and over again. And when Wally felt one of the legs he had trapped get loose he did the only thing he could think of. Dick felt his world go black right as his knee connected with his best friends groin.

* * *

His internal clock told him that it was around nine in the morning and he had been asleep for four hours. His body felt sore and his mind sluggish as he tried to figure out where he was. The sterile smell told him infirmary and the slightly colder air told him Mount Justice.

His first coherent thought was that he couldn't remember his dream. His second was that Wally was getting better at knocking people out. Then Batman came into his view. His mentor was standing in the corner and before Dick could speak, Batman gave him a debriefing.

Scarecrow managed to enter the base and released a new fear toxin into Robin's room. It's actual affects aren't known because Robin was the guinea pig. But from what the boy had managed to get out between beating his teammates, Batman could only assume he was seeing his family.

He took out Aqualad first. A quick knockout which the teenager managed to recover from in fifteen minutes to inform the league of the situation. But in those fifteen minutes Robin managed to take out a Kryptonian clone, a powerful Martian and almost take out a speedster.

Said speedster managed to hit a pressure point (_"which I can only assume he's learned from you"_) and take control of the situation. Artemis showed up next and tied you up once she could get the story out of a gasping Wally.

Dick raised an eyebrow.

"You knee'd him."

The other eyebrow went up.

"In the groin."

"I assumed that was implied." Dick didn't realize how dry his throat was until he spoke and immediately reached over for the water.

"Why did he only infect me? Why did he run?" Dick finally managed to ask.

"He wanted to make the take down personal. Hoped that you would be able to finish the job. He was mistaken, apparently. We should have seen this coming." Batman paused. "That someone would get in."

_Of course, _he thought._ We're in a cave that's been discovered before. Of course._

"The team?"

"Aqualad and Conner will be fine. M'gann needs a little more recovery time and, since you didn't touch her, Artemis headed back home to rest. Wally is waiting outside, ice pack and all. Did you want me to send him home?"

Any other day and Dick would have enjoyed seeing Wally, but tonight - _not tonight_. Before he could respond though, the door was opening.

"Dude, I don't care what you say, I've been limping for the _past four hours_. So I'm gonna see you. You _owe_ me, dude."

Dick turned to Batman and the older man had the audacity to shrug at him before leaving, letting Wally in.

And while Dick had thought maybe the speedster was exaggerating, (_speed healing, duh_) Wally really did walk in with a limp. He uncomfortably took a seat by Dick's bed.

It was silent for all of five seconds.

"I'm sorry." Wally finally said.

_Wait, what?_

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I'm sorry. You kept saying sorry to me. When you thought I was John. And, um, dude, I just, you were freaking out, you beat M'gann - _wait_! Don't make that face! It wasn't that bad. She totally understands. We all do. It wasn't your fault. It could have happened to any of us. We're all actually kind of grateful it didn't happen to SB, because could you imagine that? And, _hahaha_, I'm rambling and it's just, it's just... You know... Did no one ever think that maybe putting us in a base that's been infiltrated before was a stupid idea?"

And Wally grabbed his hand, not really looking in his friends eyes and squeezed.

Dick smiled and gave a slight squeeze back and said, "I think, I'm gonna think about that later, KF."

A small smile found its way onto a freckled face.

"Fucking nightmares, right?"

* * *

Wow, that's shit -_-

Mama - mom

Tata - dad

Unchiul - uncle

Matusa - aunt

Vār John - cousin John

Tata, îmi pare rāu - I'm sorry dad

Vā rog - please

Scuze - sorry (another way)

I debated on using Romanian or Romani. I know the Romanian is mostly correct but I really wanted to try to use Romani so... I looked into a lot of sources and I choose Romanian in the end because it had more consistency but if I ever use words that aren't like mom and dad and uncle and stuff like that I'll use the pages I saved.

Eva


End file.
